The Moghul Part 67

"That was a n.o.ble thing you did, Amba.s.sador. We all owe you a debt of thanks. I have rarely seen His Majesty so out of temper. The repercussions could have been distressing for many of us."

"It was your idea."

"Merely a quick fancy, an act of desperation. But without your cooperation it would have been impossible. I do thank you."

"There's nothing to thank me for." Hawksworth drew his arm away.

"Where's this house you've found for me?"

Nadir Sharif sighed. "Finding a secure lodging these days is more difficult than you might first imagine, Amba.s.sador. But you were in luck. I remembered there's a small lodge in my palace grounds that is unoccupied. I did not reckon on quarters for two, but of course the woman will be living with your servants. The house should serve until something more fitting can be found."

"My thanks." d.a.m.n you. "When do I move there?"

"Your effects have already been moved, on His Majesty's authority. You can come tonight. My men will show you there. Your dinner is probably waiting."

At that moment the last lamp was extinguished. Along with the other guests they groped their way out of the _Diwan-i-Khas _in total darkness.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"Many years ago I was a _devadasi_." Kamala sat, pillowless, on the carpet, watching as Hawksworth ate. Her musicians, the flautist and the drummer, knelt silently behind her. Nadir Sharif's servants stood by, nervously attentive, pretending to ignore everyone but Hawksworth.

The white plaster walls of the lamp-lit room fairly flashed with Kamala's diamonds. "Do you know what that is?"

Hawksworth shook his head, his mouth gorged with roast lamb. The room was filled with its aroma. It was his first lamb since Burhanpur, and he was ravenous.

"Does that mean yes?" Kamala's Turki was surprisingly good.

Hawksworth suddenly remembered the curious Indian

convention of swinging the head from side to side to signify concurrence. He had meant to say no, which in Indian body language was an almost un-reproducible twist of the neck. He swallowed the lamb and reached for another shank.

"No. I meant no. Is that a kind of dancer?"

"It means 'a servant of the G.o.ds.' In South India there's a special caste of women who serve in the great stone temples, who are married to the G.o.d of the temple. When we are very young we have a marriage ceremony, like any wedding. Except we are a bride of the temple. And then we serve its G.o.d with music and with our dance."

Hawksworth examined her quizzically. "You mean you were like a nun?"

"What is that?"

"They're something like Papist priests. Women who give themselves to G.o.d, or at least to the pope's Church." Hawksworth paused awkwardly.

"And claim to be married to Christ, so they never lie with a man."

Kamala looked at him with surprise.

"Not even the high-caste men who come to the temple? But how, then, do they serve this Christian G.o.d? By dance only?"

"Nuns aren't known to do much dancing. They mainly . . . well, I don't really know what they do, except claim to be virgins."

"Virgins!" Kamala exploded in laughter. "This Christian G.o.d must be a eunuch. We _devadasis _serve the temple with our bodies, not with empty words."

"Then what exactly did you do?" Hawksworth looked up and examined her.

"I was at the famous Shiva temple of Brihadishwari in Tanjore, the great fountainhead of Bharata Natyam dance in India. There we danced for the G.o.d of the temple, and we danced too at the courts of the Dravidian kings of the south." She hesitated, then continued.

"Devadasis there also honor the temple G.o.d by lying with men of high caste who come to worship, and by wearing the jewels they give us. It's all part of our sacred tradition."

She laughed as she watched the disbelief flood Hawks-

worth's face. "I gather we must be quite different from your Christian 'nuns.' But you know _devadasis _are honored in the south. Many are granted lands by the men they know, and though they can never marry, _devadasis _sometimes become attached to a man and bear his children.

But our children always take our name and are dedicated to the temple.

Our daughters become _devadasis _also, and our sons temple musicians.

Our dance gurus are part of a hereditary guild, and they are esteemed above all men. They are the ones who preserve and pa.s.s down the sacred Bharata Natyam dance. You may not believe me when I tell you we are highly revered by the kings who reign in the south, lands where the Moghuls fear to tread. They know we are special among women. We are cultivated artists, and among the few Hindu women in India who teach our daughters to read and write."

"I'll believe you." Hawksworth studied her, not quite sure it was true.

"But if you're dedicated to a temple in the south, why are you here in Agra?"

Kamala's dark eyes grew lifeless, and then she turned away. "I'm no longer a true _devadasi_. In truth, I have not danced at my temple for many years. The first time the Moghul's army invaded the south, a Rajput officer who had deserted came to our temple to hide. He fell in love with me and forced me to come with him when he returned to Agra, telling me I must dance for him only." Her voice hardened. "But I never danced for him, not once. And three years later he was killed in a campaign in Bengal. Since that time I have had to live by my own hand.

For many years now I've lived by teaching dance to the _tavaifs _in Agra."

"Who?"

"_Tavaifs_. Muslim dancing girls. Courtesans who live in beautiful houses here and entertain men. There are many in Agra and in the city of Lucknow to the east." Kamala's tone grew vague. "And I teach them other things as well."

"But why did you insult the Moghul tonight? Do you really believe all the things you said?"

"What I said was not a 'belief.' I don't understand what you mean by that. Things either are or they are not. What does it matter whether we 'believe' them? But what I did was foolish, I agree. Impulsive. I so despise the Moghuls. You know, I told the Moghul's prime minister this afternoon I would never dance for Arangbar, that nothing could make me, but he forced me to come anyway."

Hawksworth's eyes narrowed, and he dropped the shank of lamb he was holding. "What did you say! Nadir Sharif knew all along you would refuse to dance for Arangbar?"

"Of course he knew. And I knew Arangbar would order me killed. That's why I wore all my diamonds. I thought if I was to die, it must be my dharma."' She paused. "And you know, it's strange but I felt nothing.

Except perhaps pity for my pretty little courtesans. Some of them are only girls, and I wondered who would teach them after I was gone."

Hawksworth was no longer listening. He was trying to remember the exact sequence of what had happened in the _Diwan-i-Khas_.

He arranged it, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Even the paintings. Nadir Sharif played with me like a puppet. Just so he could send her here. He knew I'd try to save her. But why would he do it, and in such a way I was never supposed to know? Is this so--called dancer supposed to be another of his spies?

"You said you worshipped a G.o.d named Shiva. I thought Hindus worshiped Krishna."

Kamala looked at him with surprise. "You know of Krishna? Yes, he is the G.o.d worshiped by the Rajputs of the north. But he is a young G.o.d.

Lord Shiva is the ancient G.o.d of south India. He presides over the generation of life. His lingam symbolizes the male half of the force that created the universe."

"And I suppose you're about to tell me that's the part of him you worship." Hawksworth kept a straight face.

"He is revered in many aspects, including Nataraj, the G.o.d of the Dance. But yes, his lingam is worshiped. Have you seen the round stone pillars wreathed in garlands of flowers?"

"As a matter of fact . . ." Hawksworth paused, then looked at her sharply. "There was something of that sort in the porters' lodge of the customs house at Surat, where my men and I were kept the morning we arrived."

"Those pillars symbolize Shiva's lingam. Let me tell you about it.